


I Confess, I've Lost Control

by mellodramatica



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Blood Kink, Bondage, Choking, Dom/sub, Gore, Knife Play, M/M, Murder, Vampirism, Voraphilia, Vore, consensual cannibalism, explicit - Freeform, feet (very minor), hematolagnia, minor stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 17:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13370067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellodramatica/pseuds/mellodramatica
Summary: The killer has written Will a poem, and he does not let his love go to waste.





	I Confess, I've Lost Control

**Author's Note:**

> I began this fanfiction in early 2017 and forgot about it, as happens to me way too often, then remembered it again three days ago and somehow smashed the rest of the nearly 7600 words out of my keyboard within that short span of time. I stayed up late one night, worked on it throughout all of the next day and then found myself drinking four shots of espresso with extra sugar at 3 AM in order to finish this. If it is better or worse than all my previous fanfiction I do not know - you be the judge. I hope you have fun reading. Oh, and in case you didn't read the tags, here are the necessary trigger warnings: explicit gore, murder and mutilation, blood, knife play, minor stabbing, vore/consensual cannibalism, choking, bondage, dom/sub, anal sex, mentions of feet.

 ;

 

That man seems to me to be equal to a god, 

That man, if it is right to say, seems to surpass the gods, 

who sitting opposite to you repeatedly looks at you

and hears

 

your sweet laughter, something which robs miserable me

of all feelings: for as soon as I look

at you, Lesbia, no voice remains

in my mouth.

 

But the tongue is paralyzed, a fine fire

spreads down through my limbs, the ears ring with their

very own sound, my eyes veiled

in a double darkness.

 

Idleness, Catullus, is your trouble;

idleness is what delights you and moves you to passion;

idleness has proved ere now the ruin of kings and

prosperous cities.

 

_ Catullus, Carmen 51 _

_ Translation copyright 10-4-1997 by Rudy Negenborn _  
  


 

* * *

**_Disclaimer_ ** _ : None of Hannibal’s views on mental illness are my own. Hannibal himself is twisted and the intent is to show that through the way he views Will’s mental state, not to romanticize mental illness. _

_ That being said, bring forth this tale of dicks. _

* * *

 

 

Everything was a blur to Will as he ran into the kitchen of the home that wasn’t his, automatically pointing his gun at the man who had killed his wife and was just about to kill his own daughter - and suddenly, the knife was in his own hand and he slashed it, straight across soft pale skin, she fell, he screamed as his blood-drenched hands dropped the knife. In the corner of his eyes a dark figure raised; he turned his head and saw a completely black, humanoid and horned creature, and all else faded to the background as he was sucked into its eyes, brought into its arms, blood and sweat smeared together as he grabbed its head. He wanted to kill it, this demon that was ruining his life, but then it leaned closer to Will’s own face and the double L in kill were replaced by a double S until he heard a faint ring; everything blurred, the demon was ripped from his hands and he screamed himself into reality, waking up with a start. 

A few of his dogs looked at him with tilted heads, beeping softly. But that wasn’t the ring he’d heard. It was the phone, he found, ringing on his desk. After taking a deep breath and pulling his drenched shirt loose from his body, he stood up and stalked towards the thing, only half-aware of his surroundings. 

“W-Will Graham,” 

“Will,” Jack’s calm, deep voice came from the speaker. “I need you to come over right now. There’s a new case I need you to analyze.” 

Will sighed; he was positive the exposure to so many murder scenes was not benefitting his mental stability. But this wasn’t about him; he’d do it for the sake of humanity. “Be right over,” He replied with a cracky voice, and Jack hung up. Will listened to the beep on the line for a moment until Winston pressed his wet nose against his hand. He slowly looked down and managed a smile, giving the dog a scratch behind the ear before he dressed himself.

 

An hour later, he stepped out of the car and pushed the door shut behind him. Jack stepped out on the other side. They’d driven into the countryside, and in front of them was a small church just outside of the nearby town, surrounded by tall pinewoods. The sun was shining, but it was quite cold nonetheless, and Will pulled up the zipper of his coat as he and Jack neared the crime scene. Other police cars had already arrived and officers were shutting down the area, but the two were allowed to pass.

“I’m not gonna say it’s something you’ve never seen before, but this murder is.. Detailed. Which is why I’m glad you’re here.” Jack said, as they halted a few metres before the entrance.

“Right,” Will replied, looking straight forward. “Let’s see it, then.” 

Jack nodded and opened the door of the side entrance. Entering, Will totally forgot to hold open the door for his boss as he stepped into the colored light of the stained glass windows. It was a small church, mostly made up of off-white and beige marble and wood, however quite richly decorated. It would have been pretty if it wasn’t for the figure, hung straight from the central dome area, where otherwise the chandelier would have hung. Blood dripped down from delicate, veiny feet, where it made a 6 metre free fall before joining the small puddle on the floor. It had been a young man with an almost godlike, innocent face, delicate features and blonde curls, which were now smeared with blood. 

Will made an analysis of the mutilations in his mind. The eyes were covered by a blindfold, but deducing by the dried blood emerging from underneath the cloth, they had been removed or in some way harmed. Through one ear and out of the other the killer had placed a long metal structure, which partially helped keeping the victim in place as he hung. Small patches of skin seemed irritated, but Will wasn’t close enough yet to see the cause of that. Judging from the askew position of the jaw and the neck, the tongue might have been extracted. Lastly, the heart had been removed - from the back, so it wouldn’t ruin the front view, he supposed - and was held up in the victim’s hands, as if being given to the onlooker. Will closed his eyes and looked down. It was like a very twisted work of art. The killer would certainly have thought of it as art, anyhow.

“You okay, Will?” Jack asked, appearing next to him.

“Fine,” He replied, pushing his glasses up his nose as they’d slipped off a tad.

“Alright. We’re gonna clear the place now.” He gave Will a pat or two on the shoulder before he walked away, telling all the agents to leave in his booming voice. Within a minute, he had the place for himself, though that certainly wasn’t a good thing. But something good had to be done. 

After taking in the image, memorising it, Will closed his eyes. Once, twice, three times the vision changed in his mind’s eye. He was in the past, reliving the event as the killer himself.

“I’m going to write a poem,” He heard someone speak in his own voice. Clue number one. The victim was tied up and blindfolded as he laid him down on the cold stone floor in the center of the church. According to the poem he had so carefully selected, “.. The tongue goes first.” 

Will had to fight not to cringe away and lose the visualization as he saw his hands reach for the conscious man’s tongue, who screamed - and so did Will - as the organ was pulled out with all his might. Blood showered onto the both of them and the young man threatened to choke, unable to swallow any longer. Next would be the skin. He took a bottle of acid out of his case along with a syringe, filling the latter up with the fluid from the former. He then proceeded to deposit the acid carefully underneath the man’s pale skin. It was good that he had acted quickly; not yet unconscious, the victim was still able to feel it, the feeling of a fine fire spreading beneath the skin.

Next were the ears; he’d die now, certainly. Shameful, he’d have liked some more time with the man, but the poem had the last word. The thin, long metal bar entered his left ear, a little rough at first, but soon easily punctured the soft brain tissue. A sharp tip emerged from the other side, straight out of the right ear, and when he looked at the man’s chest, he was indeed not breathing anymore. Good; at least that’d make removing the heart easier. But first the eyes.

Will had seen it done before with the night nurse, but the thought of it was just as grotesque. He saw his hands move towards the eyes only vaguely, trying not to focus on it, but there was no other option. He dug his thumbs in the man’s eye sockets and pushed the sight out of him, feeling the little things give way immediately. The blood that erupted around his fingers dripped down, decorating his face beautifully; to cover up the distorted look of an eyeless face, he carefully tied a bandage around his head.  _ Eyes veiled in a double darkness _ \- it couldn’t make more sense. Now that the poem was finished, he had to indicate its purpose, almost like a ritual; he turned the body onto his stomach carefully and carved, with surgical precision, the heart out from the back. It wasn’t difficult then, to sew the heart carefully into the man’s hands and make his arms stick out by inserting metal rods to keep them straight, so now the hard task was to get him hanging from the ceiling, right in the centre of the dome. Hard, but not impossible - nothing was impossible for him, after all.  

At that point Will gasped back into reality, suddenly noticing his erratic breath and the sweat emitting from all over his shaking body. He squeezed his eyes shut a couple of times in order to ban a few of the visions from his retina and looked up at the figure again, now having been suspended from the ceiling for the past few hours. This was enough. 

"It was a poem," Will grudgingly said to Jack when they both left the scene and drove back. Pictures had been taken, analyses of the scene had been done and it was time for the autopsy. "A poem.. From the murderer to a loved one. He wanted them to know.. His feelings towards them." 

His boss looked over at him, worried at Will's frantic expression underneath his own calmness. "How did he convey this poem?" 

Will pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "He followed out a certain sequence of mutilations that must've reflected what the poem said. He removed the tongue, inserted acid into the skin, put that.. That rod through his ears and removed his eyes." 

"So you're telling me that those things are literal representations of the feelings of love and pain? What about the heart?" 

"The heart is more simple, he.. It was only to make clear what the message was - he was giving someone his heart. It was an indicator, but didn't have anything to do with the poem itself - like the way you'd write  _ Lots of love _ below a letter." He looked out of the window, but barely registered the crisp winter landscape passing by. Jack was still looking at him with that same worry, but he couldn't help but be amazed at how much his analyses always seemed to make sense. They would most likely be proven correct by the autopsy, as always, and Will was able to do all that without even a closer look at the body. The line between Will's mental stability and how much they needed him - how much humanity needed him - was way too fine.  

Just as the body was placed onto the autopsy table with a slam, a few miles apart, Will Graham took the provincial road to his psychiatrist’s accommodation with the necessary speed. Jack had urged him to go, something for which Will was thankful - he wanted to see Hannibal for many different reasons. No appointment had been made, but if necessary, he would simply wait until his psychiatrist had time. He was pretty sure he would make time for him, though. His feelings were very mixed as he pulled up into the driveway and parked the car, and he had to sit and get his thoughts in order for a minute after the engine died. But then, still with slightly shaky movements, he opened the door and got out, barely hearing it slam shut behind him as he walked up to the entrance of the establishment. The door opened and shut without creaking and led to the waiting room, where a couple of chairs in warm and natural tones were stalled to cosy up the atmosphere. Will smiled, a bleak half-grin; the contrast between the way Hannibal presented himself, so refined and professional, and the way he was in true nature, was so striking it was almost funny. 

 

* * *

_ I’m tired of this human duet, _

_ No civilizing hides - _

_ O u r   a n i m a l   i m p u l s e s . _

* * *

 

The door behind Will opened unexpectedly - he had not knocked, or shown any signs of his arrival - and he turned to see Hannibal Lecter standing in the opening. He was dressed impeccably, as always, with his various shades of earthy clothing matching the aesthetic of his office. Today his theme was brown, dark but not harsh and matching his eye color, so reminiscent of warm and richly hued wood. He looked relaxed, not nervous at all, standing with one leg crossed behind the other as a very light smile tugged at his lips. “Good afternoon, Will,” Were the first words he spoke. “I’m glad to see you.” 

Will looked up at his psychiatrist and studied his face more closely for a moment. The man had features he could continuously marvel about; they were something he had never seen an equal of and most likely never would. His cheekbones were pronounced, his nose quite small just like his eyes, which were topped by eyebrows so light they gave the illusion of nonexistence. His lips were thin but curved elegantly, his jawline was square and strong. He wouldn’t like to describe his features as strange, but that was exactly what they were - though strange in a very good way. So good in fact, that Will often found himself having to cut his thoughts off mid-sentence because they were distracting him, like insects buzzing around his head.

“How did you know I was here?” His words came out relatively composed; Will gave himself a mental pat on the shoulder.

“I heard the car drive up.” The normality of the answer was unusual to him, but he nodded shortly and walked in as Hannibal stepped back from the door to allow him to. A last door was shut behind him and he found himself in Hannibal’s office once again; desk in the middle of the room, windows right ahead and a great library running all across the wall above him. Despite the huge, high windows, the office would have been dark if it weren’t for the lights placed around the room, on desks and against walls. Will walked about halfway in before coming to a halt; he could feel that Hannibal had halted right behind him and forced himself not to turn around. “There was another case today.”

“Is that why you are visiting?” Came Hannibal’s voice, from right behind indeed.

“Yes. Jack told me to go.” He gazed into thin air, his eyes resting somewhere on the floor before him. 

“Tell me about the case.” Will could almost hear the smile in his voice, though he was sure he would see none if he looked around. He decided to simply hold his breath and jump right in. 

"Catullus, am I correct?" He said, finally looking over his shoulder half-heartedly. He thought he did see him smile from his peripheral vision now, and kept gazing down at his shoulder. Hannibal moved closer until his chin was just inches above it and was indeed smiling, surprised but proud of how Will had guessed it - known it. "Carmen 51, in honor of the Lesbian poet Sappho," He nodded. "Indeed." 

Will finally turned halfway to look up at him, his eyes inscrutable. "Interesting composition, as always." 

"It was slightly troublesome, but it worked out, as you saw." Hannibal's eyes flicked from Will's eyes to his lips, the same smile still on his face, making him both terrifying and terribly handsome. He had murdered someone, an innocent person, in a horrifying way, and yet somehow the knowledge that it was a poem just for Will made a warmth build up in his core. Hannibal had an appalling way of expressing his love, but this was probably the best way he was able to present it. 

"Thank you, Hannibal," Was all he could bring himself to say that moment. It was enough, he dared to hope, as Hannibal raised his right hand and trailed his fingers up Will's arm before reaching his shoulder and skipping to his cheek, which he stroked softly. Will endeared him so much, the way he just knew things, the way he could see that flash of intuition in his eyes whenever he did something, the way he appreciated the things he did for him even though the sights ruined him mentally - he was making Will his own beautiful disaster and he loved every part of him. Oh, if only he could consume him, just a small part, with his consent.. He didn't care about consent with any of his victims - they were just the same as livestock in his eyes - but in Will he had somehow found an equal, and having his consent to eat him would be the most romantic thing he could possibly think of. 

He closed his eyes and leaned just a little closer towards Will, his nose right next to the latter's ear, the delicate curls that stuck out of his brown hair brushing gently against it. Will could feel the cannibal's warm breath against his skin and closed his eyes for a moment, too; a certain kind of paradoxical calmness had come down over the two, a calmness that was somehow loaded with tension. He turned around completely, finally, and Hannibal could see his entire face - his lovely face. People were beautiful animals, but never had he seen one quite so impressive as his own, with his doe-like eyes and fine yet masculine features. Will looked up at him with those eyes and he could see a certain fear, combined with expectation and desire. It was absolutely gorgeous, and he doubted he would ever see anything prettier than this as he slid his hand between Will's messy curls. Will raised his hand and took off his glasses, putting them down on the desk beside him without averting his eyes. 

The little space left between their faces was bridged almost hesitantly then, with both edging towards each other in short intervals, like animals testing the waters. But bridged it was, and their lips finally contacted almost by mistake, it seemed, though the spark had been conveyed; Will opened his mouth and gasped as he got to kiss Hannibal at last and their open mouths clashed together frantically, moving in a harmony incomparable to anything else. Without even actually consuming him, Will already tasted like nothing Hannibal had ever known before - there was no way to describe it that would do him justice, the way his gentle tongue and soft, full lips teased his fine palate. He slid his right hand further into Will's hair as his left locked around his waist; he could feel a shiver run across Will's spine as the latter very hesitantly wrapped his arms around his neck, connecting them on his back. Their lips parted only momentarily and Hannibal leaned in to take Will's bottom lip between his teeth, making him moan as he tugged softly at the flesh and ran his tongue across it. He released it after sucking on it almost harshly, earning another soft groan from Will - he was so sensitive already, and it was bound to drive Hannibal wild. They broke apart and looked at each other; Will's eyes were wild and full of emotion, Hannibal's eyes showed confidence and smoldering lust. He had waited since he'd planned the murder, Will had waited since he'd seen it, and no matter how terrified he was, he needed Hannibal badly, needed him now. His expression reflected this need, and Hannibal responded; he led Will out of his office, through a few more doors and into a big, dimly lit bedroom with a king size bed. 

The moment they entered, Will turned and pushed Hannibal against the wall besides the door, kissing him urgently again. The psychiatrist was startled by his client's sudden aggression and rendered useless for a split second as he threatened to give away his dominance - for the laws of nature themselves had decided that he would be dominant, even before they had met - but then he clamped his hand around Will's throat and stopped him, choking him lightly. A wave of fear rushed through Will's body and crushed against his insides, but Hannibal's action wasn't cruel - only disciplinary, and for some reason very, very hot. He was held only inches away from the taller man's face and he could feel his warm breath against his skin as he gazed into his eyes like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, Hannibal's expression hardened along with his grip, and Will inhaled sharply - but then both softened and the psychiatrist gently grazed his nose across Will's cheekbones. "Don't do that," Were the simple words he whispered against his skin, but Will understood that an unspoken law had been violated and nodded. Hannibal was the leader, the master, the boss, and he would follow him everywhere. 

Hannibal let go of his throat and he whimpered, immediately longing again for that strong sense of being controlled, craving the idea of his life being in the murderer's hands - it was so wrong and so good in so many ways. Hannibal noticed Will's body language but paid no heed; he was not about to use this delicious punishment as an idle reward. He pushed Will towards the bed and had him sit down, and then somehow managed to kneel before him to take off his shoes without sacrificing his dominance; he held eye contact with his prey and stared him down relentlessly as he slid off his shoes one by one, placing them neatly besides the bed. His socks followed and the first things bared were Will's feet, which Hannibal took into his hands; still using the sole power of his eyes to keep Will under his command, he took one of his toes in his mouth and scraped his teeth across it, biting gently. Will's lips parted in a short, surprised little gasp at how strangely good this felt, but Hannibal didn't linger. He got up and pushed Will further onto the bed while crawling on top of him, caging his smaller body beneath his own as he kicked off his shoes. 

Will was still sitting, leaning backwards on his arms as Hannibal drew nearer, and the latter trailed his fingers up Will's chest until he reached the first button of his shirt, which he undid in a swift movement. More buttons followed and Will's chest was soon bared; Hannibal paused to admire it, dragging the tip of his nose from Will's core to his collarbones and taking in the heavenly scent before grabbing a bit of his skin between his teeth and sucking on it. Oh, how easy it would be now to just bite - but he didn't, allowing himself to save the best for last. Will gasped, though; the feeling was close to pain, but brought pleasure upon him as well. God, how Hannibal taunted him, using power and fear and things Will had never thought of before to make him feel good. "H-Hannibal," He whispered coarsely, at which the taller man immediately leaned in and listened. "Your poem.. Was beautiful." Hannibal studied his eyes closely and all he saw was love, lust and obedience; Will was offering himself to the killer completely and he laid down to underline this statement. He looked down at him, his emotions all over the place - he was endeared by Will, but also wanted to fuck him more than ever now; the submission in his eyes was like a feast to his own. 

He dropped his head and attacked Will's neck in a reply, kissing and biting him all the way from his collarbones up to his ear, of which he then lovingly took the lobe between his teeth and scraped them across. He heard Will moan right beside his own ear - heard him open his mouth to do so - a high-pitched, breathy moan. Hannibal replied with another, low and deep like a growl, and because he was so close to his ear Will could feel the vibrations of it as they ran all the way down his body. Sex had always seemed simple to Will - good, but simple; you do this and this - but Hannibal did this and this and this and more, and he somehow had Will squirming underneath him at his every touch even before his lower body was tended to. 

Hannibal leaned back and continued to undo the buttons of Will's shirt, after which he gently urged him to lean up so he could take it off entirely. Then, he undid himself of his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders as he straddled Will and hanging it on the bedpost without a further look. It was his tie's turn now; he skillfully loosened it, and Will felt like he had already been expecting it when Hannibal gently placed Will's hands above his head and wrapped the tie around them before fastening it to the head's end of the bed, behind him. The predator smiled down at his prey, who was way too eager to be helpless in his hands; the knowledge that Will knew who he was and still behaved like this added a new dimension to their system of dominance.  _ A power bottom _ , Hannibal's mind went, suddenly digging up something he had read on the internet once. What a gift, he thought, and continued unwrapping it, slipping the end of Will's worn leather belt through the loop and pulling it tighter to allow the pin to slip out. He then began undoing the buttons of his own shirt, more quickly than he had done Will's. 

Will gazed up at him and followed his every move with his eyes, watching inch after inch of skin being exposed. Hannibal's torso looked strong in his own way; he wasn't ripped, but quite broad-shouldered nevertheless, looking healthy and terribly good. His shirt slid off too and now both their upper bodies were uncovered. Hannibal leaned down to place another soft kiss on Will’s lips, but his arm reached over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and scrambling around for a moment before his fingers locked around that which he sought. 

Will had his eyes closed, but they shot open when he felt the cold metal contact his skin at the side of his stomach, right above his hip. The knife was held flat against his skin, not with the sharp end, but Hannibal saw terror flash through Will’s eyes nevertheless. His legs were still straddled by Hannibal, arms bound above his head and he was helpless as Hannibal dragged the tip of the knife up to right above Will’s collarbone, seeing his breath high in his chest and coming in fits in his distress. Humans would go to any extent to prove they were not like animals, but Hannibal, with his experience, had always known that this pretense was very shallow, only thinly veiled - though there was in his eyes a certain kind of artistry to bringing back this side of them, to stripping them of their facade and bringing out their true nature. There were exactly three ways to do that, categorized by three different mental states; anger, fear and sexual desire, and of course, Hannibal had mastered all three. 

He put a finger on Will’s parted lips and shushed him softly. “I won’t hurt you, Will,” He whispered, and though he was speaking the truth, he only said it because he knew Will wouldn’t trust it. And that was okay - it would only make it all the more effective. The knife ran across Will’s throat, gentle as if merely a ghost, yet its sharpness was very well tangible; his eyes flashed from Hannibal’s face to his hands. Together with his fear, another sensation was growing inside him, something he recognized faintly from a few minutes ago, though it was now more intense; the gut-wrenchingly delicious feeling of complete dependency and subjection to the murderer. He couldn’t suppress a moan as the feeling rushed through his body and got his blood pumping with adrenaline in every corner of it. Hannibal started trailing the tip of the knife back down Will’s chest and the cool metal caused tingles to spread beneath his skin; amidst his fear he smiled up at his man. Hannibal smiled back and simultaneously added pressure, ever so lightly, to his grip on the knife, causing it to slip into Will’s skin just a slight little bit. Though not extremely painful, not even deep enough to really draw blood, there was a definite sting and Will gasped, his chest rising steeply as he inhaled. This didn’t cause any damage; Hannibal’s grip on the knife was so gentle that it followed the movement neatly. The knife travelled down to Will’s abdomen and Hannibal released the pressure as he reached the thin trail of hair that started at his navel and disappeared into his pants. He circled the tip around Will’s navel for a moment, seeing the delicate skin shiver beneath its touch, before he followed that little trail - the sensation of the cold metal tickling the hair on that hypersensitive bit of skin made Will squirm beneath him, hands tugging at their bounds defenselessly. 

 

* * *

_ I must confess, _

_ I’m addicted to this - _

_ Shove your kiss straight through my chest. _

* * *

 

An idea slowly trickled into Hannibal’s cunning mind then, taking shape and making a slightly terrifying grin appear on his features. He placed the knife besides Will on the bed and allowed his fingers to creep back to the zipper of Will’s pants, opening it in a quick move executed with precision. He slipped his fingers between the hem of Will’s jeans and his warm skin and gave a gentle tug; Will understood and thrusted his hips upwards so Hannibal could pull his pants out from under him. He slid them off entirely and disposed of them; they landed somewhere in the room and were forgotten as he trailed his fingers up Will’s thighs, over his hip and then excruciatingly slowly down to his already very apparent hard-on. Will’s underwear was still on and the sensation of Hannibal’s confident fingers sliding up and down his shaft through the clothing was maddening; he wanted it off, but at the same time this was so deliciously teasing. He looked down at Hannibal, whose warm chestnut eyes smoldered as he gazed back. Biting his lip, he let out another soft whimper, throwing his head back and feeling the resistance of his tied hands. Hannibal crawled closer and suddenly lifted Will, making him sit up against the headboard of the bed; his lover automatically bent his elbows so that his hands were behind his head. The knife was pulled out again; Hannibal placed it against Will’s jawline and urged him to look him in the eyes as he slipped his finger between Will’s underwear and his skin, fingers wiggling down and finally making contact with his erection with a featherly light touch. He removed Will’s boxers in a sudden, quick move and rendered him completely nude as he slid them off his legs. Then, he firmly grabbed Will by the chin and forced him to look up; the knife left Will’s jawline and reappeared on his abdomen, where Hannibal placed the sharp tip just below his navel - and pushed.

It wasn’t a forceful push and the knife slid only through adipose tissue, but it was enough to draw blood as well as make Will gasp and whimper agonizingly, his breath speeding up many notches. Hannibal removed the knife and brought it to his face, licking the blood off the tip as Will watched. A few drops of the vital fluid trailed down Will’s abdomen, around his shaft and right onto his balls, and as he felt it, he knew what Hannibal’s plan had been. The latter’s grip on his jaw loosened and his lips grazed Will’s cheek. “You have been good. Good behavior should be rewarded, is it not?” He breathed, and Will nodded quickly. “Yes, Hannibal..” He replied softly. After letting go of Will’s face and putting down the knife, Hannibal leaned down and pushed his lover’s legs further apart before bringing his lips down to his balls, where a droplet of blood threatened to roll down and stain the sheets - he caught it with his tongue just in time and dragged the tip of it all the way up to Will’s shaft, moaning softly at the taste of this fresh blood combined with that of Will’s delicate skin. His tongue followed the trail all the way up to its source, where the taste was the strongest; he licked it all up before taking Will's member in his mouth at last. He grazed his moistened lips over the head, sticking his tongue out between them to tickle the tip; for a little while he sucked Will off in this manner, causing him to whimper and crawl beneath him. It was like nothing Will had ever experienced; he had never felt so sensitive ever before, never shivered and groaned at every little touch, but Hannibal was somehow able to make Will's every nerve feel electric. He hesitantly wrapped his legs around the torso of his man, who gladly accepted this as he swirled his tongue around the head of his cock. Occasionally, he went back up to lick the blood off Will's wound, feasting on the rich, irony flavor of it - his own, personal delicacy - before concentrating on just that spot that made Will's lovely little moans the loudest. The latter had clamped his legs around Hannibal now, but this wasn't a problem; it only told Hannibal how eager he was, how much he needed his touch, his dominance. And he was oh so eager to give him that - wanted him at his disposal entirely, completely under his command. He slid his tongue all the way from the base of Will's shaft to the tip and took the whole thing in his mouth now, feeling it hit the back of his throat as his lips and tongue made their way down. Will arched his back, he could feel him curl up underneath him; a low moan rumbled in his chest, sending the vibrations of his throat straight to Will's cock and making him nearly overflow with pleasure. Everything Hannibal did was perfect, even the things that hurt - it felt like paradise. His heels were digging into Hannibal's back and he flattened his feet, clasping onto him with even his last pinky toe. Hannibal had slowly started moving his head up and down, paying very much attention to the head of Will's member every time he came up. He listened closely to his partner's little sounds of pleasure, tended carefully to the way his body moved alongside his own, and soon he figured Will was close to spilling over that blissful edge - he removed his cock from his mouth, one last trail of saliva connecting it to his tongue before it stretched too far and snapped. Will opened his eyes and slowly looked down at him, the agony visible in them. Loosening the grip of his legs on Hannibal's body, he inhaled deeply, realizing he had pretty much been holding his breath. Hannibal moved upwards and came face to face with Will again, taking his chin between thumb and forefinger and looking him in the eyes. "Did you want to come, then, Will?" He questioned sweetly. 

"God.. Yes," He replied in a coarse whisper. Hannibal smiled. "You're not allowed to. Not until I say you are. Understood?" The pride in his voice was unmistakable, the dominance inarguable. Will nodded again, keeping contact with Hannibal's burning eyes - and perhaps it was for that reason that he didn't see the other's hand coming before it locked around his throat, pushing him against the framework of the bed. Hannibal choked Will tightly, his strong fingers infallible. "Answer me when I ask you something," He demanded, and Will noticed the edges of his vision blurring out, turning pale. "Y-yes, Hannibal," He managed to bring out. On one hand, the increased difficulty breathing terrified him in the knowledge that Hannibal could easily choke him harder and end his life, but on the other the feeling of oxygen depravity and beginning lightheadedness felt blissful and good; he was under Hannibal's control, and somehow he trusted him just as much as he distrusted him. "Good," Was Hannibal's resolute answer before releasing the pressure off Will's throat - he inhaled sharply and was thankful for the fresh air. He kept his hand near Will's face, however, and dragged his thumb over his lover's bottom lip, which was moist from the amount of times he'd bit and pursed it in his ecstasy. Oh how soft his lips were, how perfectly shaped.. Hannibal gently parted them with his thumb and urged him softly to open his mouth, which he obeyed, moving his tongue slightly forwards to welcome Hannibal's middle- and index finger. The latter pushed them in deeper and Will stroked them with his tongue, covering them in saliva and gently sucking at them as he looked up at Hannibal, who moaned softly - oh, he could only imagine how it would feel if he were doing exactly that to his hard cock. Deeming his fingers lubricated enough, Hannibal removed them from Will's mouth and brought them down, pressing gently against his arse. " _ Relax _ , Will," He calmly demanded, and Will tried; for a moment his index finger slipped in with ease, but then the muscle tightened back around it. "Nnh, sorry.." Will whispered, closing his eyes and attempting to do it again, slowing down his breathing and telling himself - against his knowledge - that there was no reason to be tense or scared. It went better now, and though it still felt uncomfortable, Will learned that there would be no pain so long as he managed to relax. Hannibal slipped in the second finger with relative ease and pushed through, letting his fingertips explore the walls until Will suddenly groaned, short and high-pitched. His legs quivered involuntarily and he wanted to push his thighs together, but couldn't; Hannibal was still seated between them. The psychiatrist had found the spot he'd been looking for and curled his fingers upwards against it, fingertips constantly pressuring Will's g-spot and driving him wild. He bit his lip so hard it nearly bled and moaned out Hannibal's name, who looked at him longingly. He couldn't get enough of the way Will was so sensitive to everything he did, couldn't bear to stop giving him what he wanted - all of it. The smaller, beautiful man with his pristine features was right at his fingertips and he was going to play him until they reached a state of climax, together. After a little while of fingering Will - he was about to orgasm again, and Hannibal was not having it - he slipped out his digits as his other hand reached for his drawer once again. Fingers were one thing, but the real deal was something else, and he didn't think saliva was gonna cut it. Will watched as he undid himself from his pants at last and united them with his own - somewhere across the room - followed by his underwear and socks. His eyes traveled down as Hannibal bared himself completely and he admired his member, which was shapely and rock-hard after all the playing around they had done. Hannibal took the lube and squirted some into his hand, dipping in the two fingers he had used on Will and bringing them back to lubricate his hole, before using the rest to richly anoint his own shaft, groaning softly as he did so; in all this time, it had not yet been paid any attention to. After a moment he put away the lubricant and crawled back to Will, placing his hands beneath the latter's legs and lifting him onto his lap before wrapping one arm around his waist to support him. Hannibal placed his cock against Will's entrance - they were face to face again, and he could see the hint of pain in Will's eyes every time he tensed up, beginning to take in more than he ever had before. He brought his hand to Will's face and held it firmly, thumb clasping around his chin and grazing his lower lip as he shushed him through his own pleasure; "Relax, sweetheart.. Shhh.. It's okay. You're doing well." Will was unable to form a coherent reply, so he nodded quickly and hoped it was enough this time - it was. He managed to relax more and more, yet still felt so tight around Hannibal that it drove him mad with pleasure. Finally he was in completely, feeling his cock tightly wrapped by Will's deliciously hot walls; he lifted him up again, just a little, helping him find a rhythm that would work for him. It felt uneasy to Will at first, but after a moment of testing the waters he felt Hannibal make contact with that sensitive spot of his once again, resulting in a soft whimper. Keeping the same position Will slowly began to ride Hannibal, who moved both hands behind his lover's back and dug his fingers into it, moaning in return. Will paused after a moment of this, though, and Hannibal looked at him. "What's the matter?" He whispered. 

"Hannibal.. Can I please.. Hold you?" Will begged him softly, wiggling his arms to underline his trouble. Hannibal inspected his eyes for a second before smiling. "Of course. You've been good," He replied kindly, before releasing the knot the tie was fastened to the bed with, followed by the one that bound Will's hands together. After all that time in the same position, Will's arms felt slightly uneasy for a moment or two, but then he wrapped them around Hannibal's back, who did the same to him, and they continued where they'd left off. Will rode Hannibal's dick, gradually finding their perfect tempo, both dragging their nails across each other's back and moaning out in ecstasy. "Oh, Will,  _ fuck _ ..!" Hannibal hissed, to which  Will's reply was an airy, high-pitched groan. The feeling building up in their loins, the sensations they were giving each other passionately now were unrivaled, and it wasn't long before they both felt themselves nearing the final edge of their pleasure. Will leaned his forehead on Hannibal's shoulder and rubbed his nose against his lover's skin in a futile attempt to relieve the pain of love, but there was no other salvation now than finally letting himself reach that orgasmic peak; Hannibal, throwing his head back and frantically scraping at Will's back, came to the same conclusion. Their crescendo of moans got dirtier still, along with the language they used to express this beautiful torture; their lips found each other amidst the battle and clashed together, all caution thrown out of the window as their teeth contacted, tugged at each other's lips, scraped across each other's tongues, as they moaned against each other's blazing lips and violently pulled at each other's hair. The kiss broke just as abruptly as it had started and Hannibal resorted to the area between Will's neck and  his shoulder, biting and sucking at it, convinced he would bruise it - then, just as they were both about to orgasm, an imagination popped into his mind and he acted on impulse. Just before he reached the edge he sank his teeth into Will's flesh and tore off just a tiny bit - Will moaned loudly in both pleasure and pain as he came, and Hannibal, with the taste of Will's flesh finally on his tongue, for him alone to ingest, came along with him, clenching his teeth as he threw his head back in pleasure. It seemed to continue longer than it ever had before in both their lives, almost to the point where it was painful, but eventually the crashing waves lessened in strength and faded into the low pitched, tingling sensation of contentment. The ambrosial little shred of flesh was still melting on Hannibal's tongue, having made his experience otherworldly; he chewed it slowly before finally swallowing it, letting it slide down into his throat, savouring it. Will, still seated on Hannibal's lap and breathing heavily, brought his hand up to the wound and wiped off a bit of blood; he inspected the damage before giving Hannibal a tentative smile and held his finger in front of the cannibal's mouth, who gladly accepted his gift and sucked it clean. He then heaved his chest in a final sigh, before removing his finger from Hannibal's lips and leaning his forehead against the other's shoulder once again, arms still wrapped around one another. Hannibal slowly ran his hand through Will's hair. "You were so good, Will.. So good." He whispered, causing Will to smile again.  

"Thank you.." He replied. "You too.. Better than good. Way too good."  

"Do you forgive me, for stealing a bite?" Hannibal gently pushed Will back and smiled at him, studying his expression. Will laughed softly and shook his head. 

"Yes.. Of course. How did I taste, Hannibal?" 

"Finer than anything that has ever graced or will ever grace this earth," The cannibal complimented him in the best way a cannibal could. 

"Then it was worth it."

 

* * *

 

******Songs:**

Adrenalize - In This Moment, Blood - In This Moment, Animal Impulses - IAMX, I Come With Knives - IAMX, Control - Garbage, User Friendly - Marilyn Manson, This Isn’t The Place - Nine Inch Nails, Pillowtalk - Zayn.

 

**Quoted songs** : 

Animal Impulses - IAMX, Adrenalize - In This Moment. 

 

**Used poem** : 

Catullus,  _ Carmen 51 _ , translated by Rudy Negenborn.

 

**Setting** : 

This story is not set in the chain of events from the show, but rather loosely connects to certain aspects of that storyline. It's an AU, but not entirely. 

 

**Copyright:**

The copyright of the characters and the setting of this fanfiction belongs to NBC. The fanfiction itself belongs to me and any instance of plagiarism will have consequences.

 

**Thanks to:**

Æon _,_ for getting me into Hannibal and being kickass. Fiona, for supporting me even when I do cringy shit. All the people involved in the show Hannibal, for bringing about such a masterpiece. My coffee machine. Thesaurus.com. Google Translate, because I'm a bilingual bitch who needs it. All the songs mentioned above, for keeping me in the right mood to write this. The ancient poet Catullus, and in turn Sappho, for giving me such a fitting lead to base this on. And lastly you, for reading my fanfiction and sitting through this pretentious bull. ♡

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fanfiction, please leave me a kudo, it really helps me as a writer when my readers show me appreciation. If you have a little more time, perhaps you could think of leaving a comment with what you liked and didn't like about it? Thanks either way. :)


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